


Don't They Know It's the End of the World?

by The Little MerBucky (blue_pointer)



Series: A Different Start [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amusement Parks, Angst, Anthony Mackie went to Juilliard yawl, Archery, Asgard, Birthday, Break Up, Brooklyn, Bucky's 100th Birthday, Bucky's birthday, Coffee, Comedy, Coney Island, Dog Walking, Failed Relationships, Ferris Wheels, Fraction's Hawkeye, How Asgardians get turnt, Kate Bishop will beat you with a shoe, M/M, Morning Sex, Pizza, Prospect Park, Rainbow Bridge, Roller Coasters, Sam Wilson is the best friend you will ever have, Steve Rogers boy genius, Steve is LOSING HIS MIND, Steve is the rational one lol please, Stony - Freeform, Swing Dancing, Thor the master manipulator, Threesome - M/M/M, Treasure Hunting, Viking party, bitchy Friday, dog therapy, over-acting, ragequitting, stonucky - Freeform, stuckony - Freeform, threesomes gone wrong, winteriron, wtf is Hnefatafl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-11-02 02:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/The%20Little%20MerBucky
Summary: It's Bucky's 100th birthday, but all is not well at Avengers Tower. When Steve and Tony accidentally ignore Bucky, he leaves to do some soul-searching. But what he comes up with isn't a happy ending. At least, not for him. When Thor shows up to offer comfort in dark times, things get wacky.Will Steve and Tony be able to live happily ever after with Bucky out of the picture? And how does Sam Wilson feel about outer space for white people?





	1. Wake Up in the Morning and I Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> I held this off for as long as I could.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Bucky's birthday, and Steve and Tony have plans...which fail. When Bucky runs to Brooklyn to sulk with Hawkeyes and pizza dog, can Kate pseudo-sister him back into a birthday mood?

Bucky slept in that morning. In retrospect, he should have been suspicious. They never let him sleep in. Ever. But he was too busy sleeping, and enjoying his late morning in bed. 

Around 10am, he heard the door open, and shortly thereafter, two extra bodies were weighing down the mattress, one sliding in from the front, the other snuggling up from the back. “No,” Bucky groaned. “Sleepin’.”

“We know, sugar, but a little company won’t hurt, will it?” That was Tony’s hand on his hip, sending secret messages to his morning wood, taunting with its closeness, yet remaining where it was.

“Maybe,” Bucky told his pillow, voice gravelly with sleep. He could feel the excitement, barely-restrained, pouring off Steve, who was in front of him, and up to now had been silent.

Steve slid his arms around Bucky slowly. “Happy Birthday, Buck.” He kissed his cheekbone.

Bucky groaned. “Just you wait, Stevie. Just you wait till it’s your turn. You’ll see how fucking happy it is.” Sleep. He was going to go back to sleep. Too tired for this shit.

“I’m sorry, did I have a stroke? Did we or did we not agree not to use the b-word today?” Tony sounded pissed. At least one of his lovers had noticed that turning 100 was something of a sore spot for Bucky.

Steve wriggled, impatient. “I know, Tony, but I’m just too excited.” Bucky had half a mind to push him out of bed. It would be so satisfying to hear that heavy thud on the floor right now.

“Get out!” Bucky groaned.

“Aww, Buck.” Steve draped himself over Bucky, snuggling closer.

“Dammit, Steve.” He was about to get whiny. Why couldn’t they just let him sleep? With any luck, he would be 200 by the time he woke up.

“Ignore him, sugar.” Tony tugged on Bucky’s hip, pulling him over onto his back. Bucky grunted unhappily, throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the light. The shift in position didn’t seem to bother Steve at all, who just adjusted against him like the most optimistic octopus. It was hard to be mad at him, but Bucky was trying.

The beard-tickle against his pelvis was the only warning Bucky had before Tony’s mouth was suddenly on him. “Oh, god…” he gasped, toes curling.

“Mmhmmm,” Tony agreed, the noise vibrating down his length and making Bucky squirm.

“Fuck!” He was panting now. But Steve wasn’t about to be left out. He started kissing Bucky, climbing up the curve of his neck to his jaw, his earlobe, his cheek, and finally landing on Bucky’s mouth. He was so far gone by then from Tony’s blowjob, Bucky met Steve’s lips, not objecting when Steve’s tongue suddenly dove in to perform a tonsil exam. He reached down to card fingers through Tony’s hair, getting sloppy when Tony spread his legs and started teasing his ass while he sucked him off.

Caught between them like this, there was nothing Bucky could do but come. He moaned as he got closer.The sounds were for Tony, but Steve drank them down, biting Bucky’s lips and kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Bucky turned his face away at the last minute, gasping. “Tony!” And then it was all over, and he really wanted to get fucked, but he also had to piss like a racehorse.

“Mmm, I love how hard you come first thing in the morning,” Tony purred, wiping the corner of his mouth. He took Bucky’s hand and tugged, trying to gently pry him away from Steve. “Come on, Bucky bear, let’s get you to the bathroom before Cap gets carried away.” How did Tony know? Of course he knew. He and Bucky had done this so many times over the last few months, it was almost routine.  

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind Bucky, Tony turned on Steve. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” Steve blinked up, all innocence--well, maybe except for the tent pole in his sweatpants.

“Don’t try to distract me with that thing,” Tony wagged a finger at him. “I’m angry with you. We talked about this. You can’t just regress to some excitable teenage boy the second you see him.”

Steve lay back on the pillow, grinning his sorry-not-sorry grin. “C’mere, Tony.” God but it was hard not to answer the siren call of Steve’s body. But he tried.

“No. Today is about Bucky bear. It’s not about you.”

But Steve grabbed his wrist and tugged him down onto the bed. Rolled over and started smooching Tony without waiting for him to protest. “Tasting him on your lips is so hot,” he whispered, diving in for more, wrapping both arms around Tony and smothering his smaller body with Steve’s larger one.

Tony’s body was suddenly on fire, and it didn’t matter that it was his sweetheart’s birthday. This time, he was sure Steve was going to fuck him. Maybe from the very romantic way he was pulling down the waistband on his sweatpants and tugging at Tony’s jeans.

Bucky walked out of the bathroom to find his wake-up crew humping on the bed. He threw his towel at them and went to grab clean clothes. “You both suck.” It wasn’t that they were screwing without him--that happened all the time. But if that’s what they’d wanted, why did they have to wake him up? And do it in his bed? “Assholes!” he grunted, tugging on a black pair of jeans and discarding one of Tony’s borrowed Zeppelin t-shirts for the Rage Against the Machine t-shirt Wanda had given him for Christmas.

Bucky was saying something, Tony realized. But Steve was thrusting against him, and--okay, he didn’t quite seem to have the logistics down, but Tony could help him get there--it was really hard to concentrate.

“Buck, c’mere,” Steve looked up from hypnotizing Tony with his pheromones long enough to beckon him over.

“Fuck you, Steve.” Bucky grabbed his wallet and phone and headed out.

“Buck, wait!” This had not been Steve’s plan at all. He’d just been impatient to get things started.

Tony blinked up, brain still hazy. “What? What happened?” Something was wrong...but Cap…

 

*

 

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but he was. Damn angry. He drank right out of the carton and put it back half-empty, looked at the eggs on the shelf and crushed half the carton just out of spite. Slamming the refrigerator door, he took one look at the coffee maker and wished he hadn’t just taken a leak. That would show him. Ignoring him for Steve on his stupid birthday. 

Part of Bucky wanted to take the short way down, jump out the window, catch himself on a ledge somewhere. But that would cause a scene, and he’d already made enough of a scene in the kitchen. For some reason, no one else was around today, and that worked just fine for him. He was just sad there were no more slammable doors on his way out. He did burst into traffic out of the garage without looking, though, and the honking and screeching of breaks made him feel a little better. He didn’t even jump the bike over the roofs of any cars, like he’d been considering doing.

Stuck in traffic on the bridge, Bucky took a minute to search for any trackers Tony might have put on him or the bike. He found a couple, tossed them into the river. If they wanted to find him today, they were going to have to put effort into it, because he was done.

Tony came running out into the main room just minutes later, sans pants. “Now look what you did!” he scolded Steve, who came wandering in, mostly-tucked and sporting a self-satisfied bedhead.

“What?” he asked in the tone of someone who is often blamed for things but refuses to accept the blame.

“He left!” Tony shouts, because apparently this needed to be explained.

“What? No.” Steve’s brain seemed to still be sex-fogged, too. Luckily, Tony’s was faster.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., track Barnes’ location.” She’d gotten into the habit of pretending that she didn’t know about whom Tony was speaking if he used any nicknames, including ‘Bucky’.

“James Barnes is currently in the East River,” she replied, sounding quite pleased about it. “He’s moving with the current, at approximately 4 knots, three meters below the surface.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” Steve clutched his chest, was looking around for his shield to rush out to the rescue.

Tony just stared at him. “Seriously, Rogers? He obviously lost the trackers because he’s pissed at me.”

Steve looked both startled and relieved. “Why’s he pissed at you?”

Tony sighed. “Coffee.” All coffee makers within range of Tony’s voice immediately clicked on. “I don’t know, Cap, maybe because we just had sex in his bed and he wasn’t invited?”

“I invited him!” Steve said, defensive. “Anyway, I didn’t hear any complaints from you at the time!”

Tony sighed. “I’m gonna go find pants. Be ready to leave when I get back.”

“Where are we goin’?” Steve wanted to know.

Tony paused, halfway out of the room, and turned back. “Steve, what’s right across the East River from us?”

“Brooklyn.” Steve seemed to finally be catching on.

“Brooklyn.”

 

*

 

There was a really good pizza place close to the building in Bed/Stuy. Bucky turned on his phone just long enough to call in an order, and it was ready to pick up by the time he got there. Then he hit the local liquor store and bought as much beer as he could carry one-handed. That made it hard to knock on Clint’s door, though. Finally Bucky gave up and kicked it with his boot. 

But it wasn’t Clint who answered the door. “What the hell are you doing up so early?” Kate asked, pretending she hadn’t been aiming a .45 at him just a second ago, taking a sip from her mug of coffee.

Seeing her hit Bucky like a ton of bricks. He’d been practicing with Sam to not have this reaction to Kate Bishop anymore, but Sam wasn’t here, and Bucky was already feeling like shit. He dropped everything he was holding and grabbed her with both arms, squeezing her as tight as it was safe to squeeze a normal human being, picking her up off the ground. “Katie.” There were tears in Bucky’s voice, but he wasn’t crying. Not yet.

The truth was, Kate looked nothing like his sister. But it was something about Brooklyn. She had the right name, the right coloring. She was the same age, height, and weight his sister had been the last time he’d seen her before Hydra had gotten into his head.

It showed the sort of beautiful, compassionate human being Kate was that she hadn’t punched him in the face or kicked him in the nads any of the times Bucky had done this to her--and he’d done it more times than either of them could count (no doubt Sam had, though). “Oh, heeey there...pretty boy.” She was only kicking a little, and shoving herself away with her hands on his shoulders with much less force than she was capable of. 

But Bucky had her clamped in the metal-armed hold of death. That’s when the dam broke, and he was sobbing into her bosom. “God, Katie, it’s been such a shit day.”

“What, seriously?” She stopped trying to push him away. “Bucky, it’s not even noon.”

“Sorry.”

“Hey, no. Look.” She patted his shoulder. “That’s nothing to apologize for.” She paused for a moment, maybe searching for a subject change. “I mean, you brought a pie for pizza dog. So you made his day, at least.”

Bucky swung around, still holding Kate in his arms, to see Lucky had nudged the box open (he was a professional pizza thief by now) and was delicately nibbling some crust. “Shit.”

Kate laughed. “Look, you can’t put a pizza box on the floor in this house and expect to get some for yourself.” She wrinkled her nose. “Unless you don’t mind the dog drool. But I’m pretty sure that’s just asshole who will eat a pizza after Lucky’s been in it.”

“Fuck.” Bucky sighed, setting her down. “They deliver, right?”

“Yep.” Kate tucked her earbuds back in and resumed her morning workout, something that involved calisthenics and...aerobics?

“Man, that takes me back,” Bucky said to no one in particular. He hadn’t been awake for that long in the 80s, but it wasn’t a decade you easily forgot.

“Let’s get physical,” Clint croaked, slouching toward the kitchen with a dirty coffee mug clutched in callused fingers.

“Let’s not and say we did,” Bucky replied. “Hey, you’re not really gonna use that again without washing it first, are you?”

“Yes he is,” Kate answered for him, apparently still able to hear them over her workout music.

“Watch me,” Clint muttered, aiming the mug underneath the drip from the coffee maker.

“Okay, stop.” Bucky had been pampering Tony for so long, it was instinctive. He snatched the mug away, quickly washed it, and handed it back to Clint, who just scowled.

“Gonna taste like dish soap now.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Man, you’re as bad as he is.”

“Am not,” Clint protested, reflexively, as he filled his freshly-washed coffee mug from the coffee pot. “As who is?”

Bucky sighed, plopping onto the battered sofa, not even wanting to say his name right now. It gave him visions of the two of them fucking in his bed after pushing him out of it this morning. “Tony.”

“Tony,” Kate said, nodding, a split second after Bucky did.

“You guys on the outs or something?” Clint asked, disinterested, wandering over to join Bucky on the couch. “Hey, pizza.” He bent down to retrieve an only slightly slobbered-on piece from what had become Lucky’s pie.

“Don’t let him eat too much, though,” Kate warned, jogging by. “He’ll be shitting everywhere tomorrow.”

Bucky glanced up, looked from Clint to the dog. “Which one are you talking about?”

She laughed. “Both.”

Clint flipped her off. Seeing Lucky had already eaten two and a half pieces, Bucky grabbed the box away from him, setting it up on the counter. “Slow down, pal. We don’t want you gettin’ a belly ache.” He knelt down on the floor to rub Lucky’s ears apologetically. Pizza dog was very forgiving, looking up to give Bucky’s face a pepperoni-flavored washing. He laughed, feeling marginally better if even for a moment. “You and me, we’re like a matching pair of fucked up. One eye, one arm.” When Bucky sat down, cross-legged, Lucky stayed close, resting his head on Bucky’s thigh. For no reason at all, it made him want to cry. He just sat there, petting the dog’s shaggy fur.

“Wow.” Kate stopped to look at him. “Something really did happen, didn’t it?”

“It’s his birthday,” Clint offered, having just turned on his phone and seen the calendar notice Nat had programmed in. Then his sleep-filled eyes opened a little wider. “One hundred years. Holy shit.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky said, flipping him the bird.

“Holy crap, really?” Kate walked over, ponytail swinging. She knelt on the floor next to Bucky and Lucky. Bucky shrugged, uncomfortable. She took a moment to mull it over. Bucky could almost see her deciding not to ask about Tony or Steve.

“How come you’re not with your boyfriends?” Clint asked, tactfully. Kate shot him the look that warned designer shoes might be flying at your crotch at any moment.

“Can I borrow Lucky?” Bucky asked her. “Just for a little? Maybe he’d like a walk.”

“He’d totally like a walk,” Kate told him, sympathetically. “Want some more company?” Bucky shrugged, which seemed to make up her mind. “Let me grab my coat.”

A few moments later, and they were headed out the door, Lucky’s leash in Bucky’s hand. “Don’t hurt yourself jumping to help a friend in need, asshole,” she told Clint. 

“Seems like you got it under control, Hawkeye,” he told her. “‘Sides, I’m feeling a nap coming on.”

“Useless,” she huffed, closing the door behind them. “Sorry about him,” she said, turning to Bucky.

“You don’t gotta apologize for Clint,” Bucky told her. “I know how he is.”

“Come on, Lucky,” she told the dog, striding ahead to the stairwell. “Who needs that loser anyway?” Maybe he understood, maybe he didn’t, but Lucky followed eagerly, tongue lolling. It was time for a walk!

Bucky focused on Lucky. Life was so simple for him. Eat, sniff things, shit. He envied him in a way, in spite of the one eye. As they walked down the street, Bucky let the dog take his time, check his dog mail, leave his replies on every trash can and doorstep they passed. He could tell Kate was getting impatient, though. Finally, she just took out her phone and started doing the human equivalent of what Lucky was doing. “You don’t have to come,” he told her.

“Please,” she said, looping her arm through his. “It may not be the freshest air, but it beats the hell out of spending any more time in that apartment that reeks of stale sweat, burned coffee, and garbage.”

“Why do you go?” he asked, honestly curious.

“Because if I don’t check up on him, no one will,” she said, shrugging. “Bobbi’s had it with him--again--and Jess...well, let’s just say it didn’t end well.”

“Oh man, they broke up?” Maybe it was a case of misery loves company, but Bucky felt a little better to know he wasn’t the only one feeling dumped today.

“Were they ever really together?” She shrugged, showing it was a rhetorical question. “I stopped trying to keep track a long time ago.”

“He’s a big boy,” Bucky offered.

“Too bad he never acts like one. Okay, Lucky. Let’s run!” She grabbed the leash from Bucky. “Run run run run, boy!” And took off down the street so the dog could stretch his legs. Bucky followed at a slower pace. Changing the subject was probably for the best.  

They walked to Prospect Park, even though Fulton was closer. Prospect Park had the zoo and...a brand new attraction.

“Jeez Louise,” Kate grimaced up at the statue of Captain America. “You’d think he was the second coming or something.”

“I guess in a way, he is,” Bucky said, part reverent, part baffled.

“The hell he is!” she declared. “Well?” She gestured at it. “Go on. I can tell there’s been something you wanted to say to him.” She was right, too.

Bucky took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Stop trying to steal my boyfriend, asshole!” He kicked the plaque, hurting his toes, but leaving a nice dent in the metal. “The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, even though Tony probably makes it seem like it does!” He aimed another kick at it. “Asshole!”

Kate passed him the leash, climbing the statue like a kid climbs a tree. She fished in her pocket, pulled out an expensive shade of lipstick, and proceeded to put it on the statue of Steve, on his lips, and then using it to draw rosey circles on his cheeks. “There,” she said, stepping back at last. “Much better.”

Bucky laughed a little, but he felt guilty. Steve didn’t deserve that. Even if he was pissed at him right now. “Oh, come on!” Kate gave him a sisterly shove. “It’ll be gone by tomorrow.” Bucky shrugged, smiling weakly. Lucky lifted his leg against the pedestal while he waited for them. That made Bucky giggle. “See?” she told him. “It doesn’t hurt to get some of it out of your system. It’s not good to keep it pent up all the time.” They started to walk again. “That jerk back in Bed/Stuy is one of my closest friends, and you don’t see me treating him like he pisses rosewater.”

“No you don’t,” Bucky agreed. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure if they were friends from the way they talked to one another.   

“So it’s your birthday,” Kate said, threading her fingers with Bucky’s as they continued through the park. “What do you wanna do?”

Bucky sighed. He and Tony had talked about it. A lot. He’d thought they’d settled on Coney Island, for old time’s sake. But now… “I don’t know,” Bucky said. Because he didn’t like to think of the plans he’d had with those two. He didn’t even want to turn on his phone and hear what they had to say for themselves at this point.

Kate watched him, considering. “How do you feel about retail therapy?”

Bucky thought about tailored suits and days out spent with Tony, and it just hurt right now. “Pretty much hate ‘em.”

“Awesome!” Kate said, cheerfully. “Then it’s decided.”

“Um…” Bucky wasn’t sure if shopping all day with a twenty-year-old woman was better or worse than spending it with the two guys he was mad at right now.

“Make up your mind,” she said, turning back toward the apartment. “If you don’t give me a different answer by the time we get back home…”

Bucky saw what she was doing. And maybe he needed it. Kate certainly was an expert at dealing with difficult guys. For her sake, he hoped she was gay, or she’d probably get stuck with someone just like them. “Can we just…” he started, hesitant. “Go for a drive? Just...anywhere?”

“Sure,” she grinned back at him. “I have a convertible with 2000 miles on it and a wallet full of credit cards with no limit.”

Slowly, Bucky grinned back. “Am I Thelma, or Louise?”

“You’re totally Louise,” she told him. “The slightly haggard, disillusioned one.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, playful. “Damaged, too. I’m the young, pretty one, duh.”

“Duh.” Bucky rolled his eyes, amused.

Lucky barked, feeling left out. “And of course, our trusty sidekick,” Kate said, looking down at him.

“Pizza dog, Thelma, and That Washed-up Old Hag,” Bucky said, snorting a laugh. “I’d watch it, but only if there were explosions.”

Kate’s eyes immediately lit up. “Oo, you wanna blow stuff up?”

Bucky considered it. “Maybe.”

“Come on!” Kate called back excitedly, taking off at a run. “Let’s go blow stuff up!” Lucky loped along beside her, barking happily.

Bucky chased after them, partly excited, partly worried she might do damage before they got out of the city. 

 


	2. Why Does the Sea Rush to Shore?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Steve and Tony make a bet over who can find Bucky first, Kate tries her best to make Bucky's birthday a fun one. But he just can't seem to kick the blues. When Bucky's and Kate's swing dance routine lands them on youtube, Tony wins the bet and finds Bucky first. But will it be a tearful reunion, or a tearful goodbye? And where did Thor come from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Break-up warning.

 

Steve wanted to take his bike, but Tony insisted they take one of the cars. Yes, the bike looked much cooler (only Tony didn’t fancy riding pillion), but there was the problem of how they were going to get home with all three of them. “Good point,” Steve said.

They hit the house on Leaman Place first. Steve was convinced a distraught Bucky would go home. He seemed to be forgetting that the brownstone hadn’t been Bucky’s home for decades, and it happened to contain the memory of Bucky’s three dead sisters, not to mention his parents. “Would you want to go back to the tenement you lived in with your mother?” Tony asked, trying to make a point.

“I should really stop by, since we’re just down the street,” Steve said, sobering.

“No, that’s not--” They were doing that miscommunicating thing they were so good at. “Okay, fine. You go visit the new highrise they put in, and I’ll head to the next likely spot.”

“Where’s that?” Steve wanted to know. His tone said Tony had no way of knowing where that might be. That Steve knew Bucky best.

“Gonna drop in on Barton, see if he’s heard from him.”

Steve grinned condescendingly. “Buck would never go to Bed/Stuy,” he said. “If he’s in Brooklyn, he’s somewhere here in the Heights.”

Tony had half a mind to tell him to go fuck himself. But it was a competition now. “You willing to bet on that, big guy?”  _ May the best man win. _

“Yeah.” Steve’s grin widened, and he looped an arm around Tony’s waist, jerking him close. “What’re we bettin’?”

Damn it was hard not to kiss him with his face so close. “First--”  _ Come on, brain.  _ “First one to find old buckaroo gets to take him out to dinner for his birthday.” Steve was opening his mouth to say they’d already planned dinner together, so Tony added, “Alone.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. He didn’t want to not have dinner with Bucky on his birthday. He also didn’t want to leave Tony out of the festive occasion. No, he didn’t like this bet at all.

“We’ll see you in Paris, slowpoke.” Tony turned toward the car, opened the door remotely.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked. “You’ll be beggin’ to join us for burgers at Sonic!”

“Not likely,” Tony said, slipping into the Audi.

“You made your bed this time, smart guy.” And while Steve’s competitive streak forced him to accept the bet in order to save face, he still didn’t like either of the potential outcomes. Well, maybe if he could find Bucky first, he could convince Bucky to invite Tony along in spite of the bet. Tony always listened when Bucky talked to him. He had a way with Tony. And what was he thinking “if” anyway? Bucky was here. In the old neighborhood. Steve could feel it. He headed for the chain drugstore that stood on the site where Bucky had once worked as a soda jerk, feeling nostalgic.

 

*

 

Tony dialed Bucky’s cell again as he headed down Atlantic Avenue. _ If you’re calling regarding terrorist acts,  _ Bucky’s voice said, _ I don’t do that anymore.  _

At the beep, Tony left a message. “Sweetheart, I know you probably don’t wanna hear it, but I’m gonna keep saying it until you accept my apology, okay? I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart--now I know what you’re thinking: this is Tony, his heart is about as deep as the kiddie pool, but seriously, sugar bear. I miss you. I fucked up. Please call me back.” He pressed end call, and took a deep breath.

“Havin’ a bad day?” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice asked. For some reason, when J.A.R.V.I.S. used to ask that question, Tony had felt comforted. When she said it, it just sounded mocking.

“It’s not the best right now, but I feel like we can turn that around. What do you have for me?”

“Barnes’ disposable phone was turned on in Williamsburg at 10:52am, and turned off again at Fulton and Nostrand at 10:54.” Tony had known he was right. He was always right. Why wouldn’t Cap just admit it?

“The number?”

“Nino’s Pizzeria, 430 Gates Avenue.”

“That’s just around the corner from Barton’s place.” He wasn’t quite sure why he said it out loud. F.R.I.D.A.Y. already knew that. But all these years spent talking to AIs made it a hard habit to break.

Tony didn’t feel great parking on the street in this neighborhood, but all thoughts of potential damage to or theft of one of his beautiful cars fled when he saw Bucky’s bike parked on Quincy. And there were no tracksuits around. Tracksuits in this neighborhood spelled trouble.

He saw one of Clint’s neighbor-kids and gave him a nod on the way in. “What’s up with all the visitors today?” the kid asked. “Hawkguy in trouble?”

“Nope, just harboring a fugitive,” Tony told him. He wasn’t quite sure what to do after that. Even after the time he’d spent with Harley, Tony had no idea what to do with kids. Did you pat them on the shoulder? Give them a fist-bump? Tip them? He opted for another head nod and went inside.

Barton’s building smelled like cigarette smoke, Jamaican jerk--goat, if Tony knew his charred meats--and he did, and a garbage chute in desperate need of a professional cleaning. Tony added it to his mental list of things to do. He took the stairs at a slow but steady pace in order to reach the third floor without being out of breath, which never made a good impression. Smoothing his jacket, he knocked on Clint’s door.

“Go away,” Barton grumped from within. “I’m sleeping.”

“I’d congratulate you on sleeping in after a night of partying, but let’s face it: you have no friends.”

The door opened and Clint immediately turned around to reclaim his place on the couch. “None worth partying with, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll tell Nat you said so.”

“Don’t care what you tell her,” Clint said, turning his face into a stained cushion. “She’ll nag me anyway.”

Tony walked into the apartment and found himself wishing he hadn’t. “Hey, not to interrupt your beauty rest, though let’s be honest, you’re fighting a losing battle there--” Clint gave Tony the finger without rising from the couch. “I’m not here for you, I’m here for Barnes. Seen him?” Tony’s eyes immediately went to the case of beer on the floor and the fresh pizza on the counter. There was something else strange about this apartment, though it wasn’t the high-heeled pumps by the door. “Hey, where’s that mutt of yours?”

“Haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Who, your dog?” But Tony knew who Clint meant. “Sounds like someone needs to call the SPCA on you.” His eyes moved quickly around the apartment. No dog, no leash, no women’s athletic shoes in place of the Manolo Blahniks.

If they were out walking the dog, it meant they couldn’t be far. Tony figured he could easily find them cruising the neighborhood in his A5. And then he’d make Steve eat it. It was his fault for ruining things this morning anyway, the big ape. Not that Tony really looked forward to a birthday dinner without him.

“You’re a laugh a minute, Tony, just like always,” Clint told him sarcastically through the couch cushion. “Now get out.”

“Nice to see you, too, Barton. Always a pleasure.”

“Yeah, don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass on the way out. And next time, maybe don’t assume I took whatever it is you’re missing.”

“Oh, you couldn’t steal from me,” Tony told him, walking out. “You were always more circus performer than stealth.”

Maybe Tony meant it as an insult, but Clint was actually proud of his carnie days. The way they’d started, what they’d taught him, even how they’d ended. So the joke was on him. And he told Kate so in his second text. He’d sent the first right after he’d heard Tony at the door.

 

*

 

_ Tony’s here. Don’t come back if you don’t want to see him.  _

Kate looked over at Bucky, who was aiming at the target she’d left on the other side of the quarry. “Asshole says Tony’s there looking for you.” She let the sentence just hang, letting Bucky decide if he wanted to see him or wanted to talk more about what had happened between them.

“That jerk knows me too well,” Bucky said, hitting the target with an explosive bang that made a big crater in the rock wall.

“So...any messages?” she asked, knowing Clint was waiting for further instructions.

“Nope,” Bucky said. “Let him keep looking if he cares so much.” It was childish. It was a shitty thing to do. But mostly, Bucky was scared of what would happen when Tony found him, because he most assuredly would. And then they would have to talk about what had happened, and Bucky, somehow, was dreading that conversation.

Kate texted Clint back.  _ You never saw us. _ But then she turned to Bucky. “You know you’re just putting off the inevitable.”

“I know,” he said, gloomy, passing back her bow. “I just...don’t know what I’m gonna say. I’m afraid of it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, smoothing her hair back. The wind up here was murder on a coif. “You think you’ll say something you’ll regret?” Bucky nodded. “But why? You could even plan it out. That way you’ll know ahead of time what you’re gonna say. You think he’s gonna make you lose your temper?” All of the Avengers seemed skilled at making people blow their tops from what she’d seen.

“No,” Bucky said. “It’s not that. It’s just…”

“So you already know what you’re going to say,” she realized. “But it’s going to suck.”

“I don’t want to say it,” Bucky confessed. “But I feel like it’s already done. Like it’s already over.” But it would be real if he said it in so many words. And that was what he was afraid of.

“Wow,” Kate observed. “You are breaking up.” That made Bucky tear up. But he’d already cried today, so he hid it as best he could. “What happened?” she asked.

“It’s not just what happened today,” Bucky confessed. “It’s what happens every time Steve’s around. He’s the apple of Tony’s eye, no mistake.” He inhaled stutteringly, looked down at his boots dangling over the edge of the quarry wall. “I just...don’t know what that makes me.”

“But you love Steve, too, don’t you?” It felt weird to Kate to be talking about all of these superheroes by their first names, like they were real people. Then again, she remembered that Clint was supposedly one of them, and it put things into perspective. They were all just pathetic assholes, overgrown man-boys, when it came right down to it.

Bucky was shaking his head. “I...Steve is...no one can ever be to me what Steve is. It’s just…”

“You love him in a lot of ways, just not like that?” Kate understood that. She understood it a lot. But she’d never been tempted to hook up with her best friend. Maybe it was the age difference. Clint just...wasn’t even on her radar in that respect.

“I’m not sure,” Bucky said, feeling like he was giving birth to something painful. “I’m not...it doesn’t feel like...not anymore.”

Kate could tell that was an earth-shattering revelation for him. But to her it made sense. She wouldn’t want to get back together with a guy she’d dated in middle school. That would just be weird. She’d grown up. Moved on. Maybe Bucky had been in cryo-stasis, but that didn’t mean he’d stayed the same. “So let me get this right,” she said, ticking off on her fingers. “You love Tony. But Tony loves Steve. And Steve loves you.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky sighed. “Pretty much.”

“So when Steve’s there, Tony ignores you. But Steve ignores him. Am I right?”

“No,” Bucky had to admit. “Steve’s gotten a lot better about that.” He picked at the dirt under his nails. “I think...he just needed time to get back to how they were. Before I was around.” And Bucky had known he would, eventually. Steve could be stubborn about some things--most things--but he wasn’t dumb. He was a fast learner.

“But?” Kate knew there had to be more to it.

“I just. Didn’t think I’d fall for Tony in the meantime.”

“Okay, this whole conversation is a real downer,” Kate declared. “Time for more explosions. Right, pizza dog?” she asked Lucky, who had pillowed his head on Bucky’s leg, knowing something was wrong. She shot the next arrow into the air, where it exploded like a flower, though the fireworks display was less impressive by daylight.

“So you’re going to break up with the guy you love, because you think he’s better off with your best friend,” she said once the smoke had cleared.

“Pretty much.” And it hurt Bucky to say it. He wished he could take it back. Make it not happen. But it had to be this way. He’d been fooling himself this whole time, wishing it could be otherwise.

“Well that is probably the worst birthday present I’ve ever heard,” she declared, standing up. Bucky just sighed. “No, I mean it,” she said, pointing down below at the angry construction workers headed their way. “I think this is our cue to leave.” They ran back to the car, Bucky wondering if it might hurt less to let the construction workers catch him and beat the stuffing out of him.

 

*

 

Tony had been driving in concentric circles (or squares, to be more precise) around Bedford Stuyvesant for almost an hour now with no sight of Bucky or Barton’s dog (or sidekick). He’d just finished leaving his fifth voice mail, when a brief moment of paranoia struck him. What if his Bucky had run away with Kate Bishop? In many ways, she was like Tony: rich, well-connected, too smart for her own good. But there were a couple of things she had that Tony didn’t, and he wasn’t talking about age, although, _ That was a really low blow, self, thanks for that.  _

But no. Bucky wouldn’t fall for her. She reminded him of his eldest sister. He’d told Tony that. And so had Sam, early on, trying to fend off just such a moment of paranoia. But the fact was, if Bucky was with Kate (and not just out walking Clint’s dog), they could be literally anywhere. Which meant he was wasting his time.

He called Steve. “Any luck, Cap?”

“No, and I checked everywhere,” Steve said, glum in a way only Steve could be glum.

“Any more bright ideas?” Tony asked, both annoyed and relieved that Steve had come up empty, too.

“I didn’t check any parks,” Steve realized. He wasn’t counting the cemetery he was currently standing in. “He could just be hangin’ out at Prospect or down by the bridge.”

Tony didn’t like the sound of “down by the bridge.” Not when it concerned their suicidal teddy bear. “I’ll check Fulton and Saratoga Square. You check Prospect and the Bridge.”

“Okay, but Tony--” he could tell Tony was about to hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s meet up if the parks don’t turn up anything. I don’t like searching around alone like this.”

“What’s this? Are you actually admitting that you miss me?” He could almost hear Steve’s nostrils flare.

“Look, I just feel like this day is making us anxious enough without us spending it freaking out alone.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Tony said calmly, just having imagined Bucky jumping from the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Well I am,” Steve said, bluntly. “For Buck to disappear for this long...I got a bad feeling.”

“Don’t say that,” Tony said, starting to freak out again.

“Look, Tony, we’ll find ‘im,” Steve said, confidently. “And if we don’t, let’s meet up at Coney Island. For all we know, he went ahead without us and has been having the time of his life all day while we’ve been looking everywhere for him.”

“If that’s true,” Tony snarled. “I’m personally going to kick his ass, centenary birthday boy or not.”

“Get in line, pal,” Steve told him, and hung up.

 

*

 

Bucky was really in no mood to have fun, but Kate had insisted. It was either Coney Island or Atlantic City, and Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead in Jersey on his birthday. 

They’d started off at Luna Park, for old time’s sake, and proceeded down the boardwalk, Kate buying Bucky absolutely every disgusting carnival food they passed, and insisting he at least try it. In between food stands, they stopped so that she could win him the biggest prize at each boardwalk game. Honest, if any girl he’d ever brought here was as good a shot as Kate, Bucky would never have been able to impress a date.

They finally reached the Cyclone, with more giant stuffed animals than Bucky and Lucky could drag along behind them. He’d given them away to a bunch of little kids waiting with their parents for older siblings, accidentally making their--and his--day.  Then they’d gone on the coaster.

Bucky had known it was a bad idea from the start. But he couldn’t go to Coney Island and NOT ride the Cyclone. Just. There was someone missing this time. At least one someone.

“Okay, why do I feel like that was a bad idea?” Kate asked after taking one look at his face when they got off. 

“It’s my fault,” Bucky said. “I shoulda known better.” 

Kate paused, tapping her foot and biting her lip. “Are you sure you don’t want to call them? You can always save what you don’t want to say until tomorrow…”

“That wouldn’t be fair,” Bucky said, offering a weak smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it with that sword hanging over my head.”

“You’re a tough guy to please, you know that?”

He dropped his gaze, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Katie. I know you been tryin’ your best. You’ve been great, honest.” He looked back up at her. “I swear, you really don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she told him firmly, marching him over to the Electro Spin and demanding he get on. For the next two minutes, Bucky was fairly certain he was going to die. It helped get his mind off his troubles. By the time they got off the ride, Kate’s hair was ruined, but they were both smiling. “See?” she told him “It’s still possible for you to have fun.” They went on every grown-up permissible ride in the park--even some of the ‘family’ ones.  But after Tea Party, Bucky was thinking of Steve throwing up again, and he started to lose his short-lived good mood. 

“Come on, that’s it,” Kate told him. “We’re done with this park. Too many memories. Onto the next one. Right, Lucky?” Lucky barked, excited. Honestly, Bucky felt bad for having brought him in. They kept having to leave him to go on rides. And the amount of junk food he was consuming...if pizza made him shit, Bucky wasn’t looking forward to his next walk. Then Lucky jumped up and licked his hands, and he didn’t feel so bad. He seemed to be having the time of his life. As Bucky had observed earlier, he had simple tastes, and seemed capable of enjoying life immensely, no matter where he ended up.

Kate must have caught him looking hard at Lucky and guessed his thoughts. “After being stuck with the tracksuit mafia for who knows how long, anything’s awesome.”

“I feel that,” Bucky said. Compared to his days at Hydra, every day was paradise. He should really think of it like that. Only, whenever he thought of paradise, all that came to mind was Tony. Tony, whose paradise was Steve. He wanted to give him that. He did. Bucky’s thoughts were interrupted by an ice-cold snowcone nearly shoved up his nose. “Whoa!” They’d barely passed the doors of Deno’s, and already Kate had bought more food.

“Take it!” she demanded. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted lemon or cherry. You get whatever the rejected flavor is!”

Bucky chuckled and took a bite. It was good. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were tryin’ to fatten me up.”

“Oh, I am,” Kate said, starting to walk toward more games with Lucky. “Only your metabolism is really cramping my style.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered.

“Come on, Bucky,” Kate turned around, smiling encouragingly, “There must be something here that makes you happy. What did you used to do for fun back in the day--” He opened his mouth to answer that he’d done everything with Steve back then, and she continued, “--I mean without Steve. What was something fun you did on your own...or with other people?”

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “Dance...I guess.” Though he hadn’t done that alone. Hardly.

“What, you mean like swing dancing?” Kate asked, bouncing excitedly.

“Well--jitterbugging. But I guess they call that swing dance now.” The future was weird like that.

“Okay, let’s do it!” Kate declared. “Come on, Lucky, let’s dance!” She must have trained him, because hearing the word, Lucky got up on his hind legs and she took his front paws.

Bucky laughed. “Nice dance partner.”

“Don’t be jealous,” she smiled. “And don’t think you’re off the hook. You’re next!” Then she found an open space between picnic tables, and demanded that he teach her how to lindy hop. Bucky figured what the hell. Kate was certain athletic enough to learn quickly. It probably wasn’t such a great thing that people were already staring at them, but whatever. It was his birthday, let them stare. 

The dance lesson didn’t go off without a hitch. After ten minutes, she’d already managed to kick him in the breadbasket and the back of the head, but Bucky figured that was normal for a crash course, and she’d pulled her punches, so-to-speak.  The important part was that they were both laughing their asses off, and Lucky was living for the crowd, earning all sorts of junk food tips for the show.

They’d just managed to perfect the over-the-back when a familiar voice interrupted the party. “Alright, Fred, Ginger, break it up.” Bucky stopped, looking over at Tony, guiltily. “Youtube? Are you kidding me with--I’m losing my mind all day looking for you, and I find you on youtube?”

Bucky’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry, Tony.” Seeing him brought back all the hurt Bucky had felt this morning.

“You big dummy! I should punch you right in one of those beautiful eyes--but it would be a crime against nature,” he said, rushing forward and throwing his arms around Bucky, who wasn’t really sure how to react to that. Kate just stood back and offered a lopsided smile.

He slid his arms around Tony, feeling relieved. And terrified. “Where’s Stevie?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Tony stepped back. “I bust my hump trying to find you, ready for a tearful reunion, and all you can say is ‘where’s Steve’?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I just--”

But Tony was already dragging him away from the crowd. “Come on, Baryshnikov. We’ve gotta get you back to the Tower before someone shows this video to Ross. I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you, showing up in a crowded amusement park is not helping your case right now.”

“But, Tony--” Bucky looked back at Kate and Lucky, who were both watching them, uncertain. Kate waved, gave him a thumbs-up. Ahead of him, Tony had that bull-headed look, and he was plowing through the crowd. Bucky knew what it was costing him--being in crowds like this was likely to set off his panic attacks these days. “Tony, wait.” He started to pull back.

“What, sugar?” The glower was gone when he turned back to Bucky, and he realized--not for the first time--how lucky he was. Or had been. “Am I forgetting something?” 

“Well, first of all, Kate and Lucky,” Bucky pointed out. “But aside from that…” He should really do it now that they were alone. Much as he hated that he had to do it at all. It would only make things harder once Steve was back in the picture. Bucky gripped Tony’s hand, started pulling him off to one side. “Can we talk?” he asked, feeling like his heart was stuttering to a halt, and trying his best to ignore it.  

“Sure?” Tony said, turning around to look at him, suspicious.

“Tony…” Bucky took a deep breath.  “I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” And he hated himself. He hated himself for saying it, and he hated himself for hurting Tony. For causing that look on Tony’s face.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Tony asked, shocked. “This had better be your idea of a joke, Barnes.”

“What is this, Tony?” Can you really break up a relationship that was never really a relationship? “I mean, what even are we?” Bucky inhaled, and just breathing was painful right now. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the fuck out of you, but come on. Whenever Steve’s around, he’s all you want. Even today, Tony. _Even_ today.”

Tony frowned. “Okay, I admit that was. Not my best moment. And totally not the plan, by the way.”

Bucky cut him off, because he knew Tony. He knew he was going to make a self-deprecating joke, then accept all the blame for what had happened. And this wasn’t about that. This wasn’t about a single incident. And it wasn’t all Tony’s fault. Bucky had stuck it out for months without saying anything, hoping things would get better. But they hadn’t. They just hadn’t. “It doesn’t matter, Tony,” he said softly. “Because he’s what you want. Ultimately, he’s what you want. So the plan doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “None of it really matters.”

Tony felt like he’d been slapped in the face. “Nothing, huh? That’s good to know.”

Bucky faltered. He hadn’t meant it to come out like that.  “Of course it matters to me, Tony. All of that matters to me, but in the long run...where is this really going? What’s the point if he’s the one you really want to be with?”

Tony was quiet. Leaving him. He was leaving him. Everyone was always leaving him. First Steve, then Pepper, and now Bucky.

“I mean, say something if I’m wrong.” Bucky’s tone turned pleading. “It just feels like I’m great to hang around with when Steve’s away, but once Steve’s back--”

“That’s not fair!” Tony snapped. “You can’t make me choose. You can’t tell me what I feel doesn’t count because I love him, too.”

“I’m not sayin’ that.” Bucky dropped his arms, defeated.

“Well it sure as hell sounds like it.”

“I’m sayin’ I can’t do it anymore, Tony.” Bucky was feeling like a wind-up toy that was swiftly running down. “I can’t be your Steve place-holder, play second fiddle for you. I can’t. It hurts too much.” And that was really the point. He’d done it for this long because it had felt worth it to have Tony to himself in those moments. But then Steve would come and take him away every time, and the wound felt fresh. Every time. It never seemed to heal.  

“Well  _ excuse me _ ,” Tony said, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t realize loving me was such a fucking burden to you. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Bucky shook his head. “That’s not what I said.” He sighed. “I still love you, Tony. That’s not gonna change. But I can’t play this game anymore.”

“Well that’s just great!” Tony snapped. “And where does that leave me, huh? The two of you just ride off into the sunset together, and I’m left holding the bag? Good old Tony, he was nice for little wham-bam, but now we’re moving on?”

“I’m not in love with Steve, Tony,” Bucky said softly. “You weren’t--I guess I didn’t say it right.”

“What?” The computer inside Tony’s head was showing a system error. That didn’t compute. Cap loved Bucky, who loved Cap...and he’d cleverly wedged himself in the middle. Hadn’t he?

Bucky shook his head, started to back away. “You can have him, Tony. I don’t...want him. Don’t want to be with him like that.” Turning away was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. To leave Tony there, in pain, and not run to help him. But he would be happier in the long run. Bucky had to believe that.

But Tony wasn’t through with him. “Fine. Just walk away!” Tony called after him.  “It’s only Tony, right? He can handle it. Just drop your bomb and get out of here. That’s what you boys are good at. Collateral damage isn’t in your vocabulary.”

Bucky couldn’t go after that. He stopped and stared at Tony until he was done ranting. Looked at him until Tony could see it in his eyes. That this wasn’t about any of that. “Do you really want me to stay?” Bucky knew he didn’t, but he had to ask. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe this was all a big mistake. Maybe...

“No! Get out of here!” Tony made shooing motions. “Just leave!” Bucky could see he was trying not to cry.

“I’ll call Steve.” He pulled out his phone and turned it on for the first time since the morning. Tony didn’t say anything.

Bucky’s phone came on, showing 22 missed texts from Tony and a photo message from Steve, who seemed to have forgotten how to use his phone again and had sent a photo of his left shoe. Out of curiosity, Bucky opened the first text, sent shortly after he’d left the Tower.

_ Please come back, honey. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. Wanna spend the day with you. _

Bucky scrolled through the rest of the messages quickly. Some were funny, some desperate. By the end, he was trembling, afraid he’d drop the phone. This was what he was giving up. Losing. Tony, who’d kept sending him message after message, hoping, needing. Wanting him back.

Then the voicemails came in. Ten in all. Only one was from Steve. “Buck, this isn’t funny.” All the rest were from Tony. He was afraid to listen to them right now.  

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said quietly. “Sorry I made you worry.”

“Oh, just stop with that over-apologizing beaten child bullshit, would you?” Tony was lashing out the way he did when he was in pain. Didn’t really make it less painful that Bucky recognized it for what it was. “Grow a spine for once in your life.”

“Well I am sorry, Tony,” Bucky repeated, stubborn. “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

“Well I didn’t fuck Steve to hurt  you . But here we are.”

Bucky was quiet for a beat. “You should be able to have sex with who you want.”

“Even if it’s you?”

“No. Because I don’t like the way it  makes me feel.” Seeing Tony’s shoulders stiffen, he clarified, “After. I mean after, when I feel like the replacement.”

“You were never the replacement,” Tony told him thickly. And Bucky wanted to believe it. He really did. But he couldn’t forget the way Tony looked at Steve. How angry he’d been the first time Steve had left the two of them alone to go on a mission.

“The stand-in, then. The understudy.” He’d been Steve’s understudy since the war, but it had never hurt like this.

Quiet rage radiated off of Tony. “You’ve clearly made up your mind about what I think,” he said, turning away. “So just go. Stop drawing it out.”

“I love you, Tony.” It was so hard to leave. His feet felt like they were made of lead.

“Go to hell, Barnes.”

Bucky backed off, but he didn’t leave. He hid where he could still see Tony, needing to make sure he didn’t do anything rash before Steve arrived. Bucky texted Steve where they were and waited.

The rides closed, and he climbed to the top of the Wonder Wheel to hide. It was only a few minutes before he saw Steve run in. He hid inside a gondola so Steve wouldn’t spot him, listening to his heavy footsteps pelting down the boardwalk.

“Bucky!? Bucky!”

He listened to Tony tell Steve he was gone, that it was just the two of them now. “Sorry, Rogers, you’re stuck with me.”

Steve didn’t understand. Of course he didn’t understand. He was thick as a brick when it came to delicate emotional stuff like this, relationships in general. And, to be fair, he hadn’t had the opportunity that Tony had had, to talk to Bucky. He was getting everything second hand. This wasn’t the sort of thing you could process second hand. But he couldn’t talk to Steve now. He needed time to recuperate before he saw either of them again.

Bucky waited until they left together, driving away in Tony’s Audi. Then he curled up in a ball and sobbed until he thought he was going to throw up.

There was a loud swooshing sound, followed by a significant impact to the ferris wheel that set his gondola rocking backward on its track. Why had he chosen one of the swinging ones? Why? Bucky sat up, white as a sheet, prepared to either fall to his death (again) or have to fight some giant monster.

But it was just Thor. “There you are, Ironhand. What a clever hiding place this is. I commend you!” He ripped off the gondola door and climbed in, causing it to go sliding and swinging away again. Good thing Bucky wasn’t afraid of heights. Oh, wait.

“Hey, listen.” How did you tell a god to scram? “Can you give me, like. A minute?” Because heartbreak only took a minute to cry out.

“Leave a brother in arms in his time of need? I refuse!” He sat down, making the gondola rock like crazy again, and put a giant-muscled arm around Bucky. “Express your feelings, puny friend. You have nothing to fear from me. How do men in Midgard survive if they cannot feel and share their feelings freely? Be not ashamed, friend. Heartbreak builds character! There were never such manly tears as those shed over a broken heart.”

Now Bucky just felt awkward. Could gods read minds or something? “Tis a noble sacrifice you make!” Thor declared. “Your friends will never know what a great friend they have in you.”

“I didn’t do it for them,” Bucky said, needing to explain. “I did it for me. It was purely selfish. If I cared about them, I would have tried to make it work longer.” And there it was: just one more reason for him to hate himself.

“Trust me, my metal-armed friend,” Thor said. “Knowing when to quit: this is the sign of a true tactician.” Why was it always war metaphors with this guy? “Love, you see, is like a battle.”  _ Oh lord _ . “Some we are blessed to be the victors, others, to become food for crows. The difficulty,” he threw Bucky a wink, “is to discern which it will be, and accept our fate.” He took a deep breath. “Today we are food for the crows. Tomorrow, we may be victors. But tonight, we drink mead with our fallen comrades in Valhalla, and celebrate a good death.”

“Death?” He was making Bucky really nervous.

“Come with me, brother!” Thor boomed, standing up, causing the gondola to rock and swing wildly again. “Let us celebrate, for I declare this day that you have made a good death on the battlefield of love!” He held out his hand to Bucky, who was just wondering if he had a choice whether or not to take it, when he heard a third voice in the distance.

“What the hell you doin’ up here, man?” Bucky could see the light from his thruster before he could actually see Sam. He blended in pretty well with the night sky. “Steve’s been looking all over for you!”  

“To Asgard!” Thor cried, grabbing Bucky’s wrist and striking the steel frame of the ferris wheel with his hammer.

To Asgard?! Was he for real? “Oh no! No no no!” Sam flew in and grabbed onto Bucky at the last minute, and suddenly all three of them were hurtling through space riding what could only be described as a day-glo rainbow from one of Timothy Leary’s acid trips. 


	3. Why Do the Birds Go on Singing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is determined to throw Bucky a good old-fashioned Asgardian birthday party. 
> 
> Meanwhile, on Earth, Steve puts on his Nancy Drew hat to try and figure out what happened to Bucky. 
> 
> And Bucky learns the hard way that feeling sorry for yourself around Sam Wilson can be a dangerous business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve, have a Viking party.

When they finally landed, Bucky and Sam both took it hard, falling on their hands and knees on a very solid bridge made of light.

“What the HELL?” Sam pushed himself to his feet, pulling his wings in tight. He moved his goggles up onto his forehead, taking a look around. “Why does it look like a day-glo unicorn threw up all over this place?”

“A unicorn?” Thor boomed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Unicorn vomit is much closer to the consistency of your Midgardian oatmeal breakfast. It does not glow.”

All this talk of vomit was really doing nothing for Bucky’s stomach. The boardwalk food he’d consumed all day was no longer his friend.

“You’ve returned.” Heimdall’s intense eyes were leveled at Thor. “What of the crown of Surtur?”

“Good old Heimdall,” Thor smiled, clapping him on the back. “Always looking at the big picture.”

Heimdall looked offended. “The fate of all Asgard is at stake.”

“You didn’t tell me there were brothers up here.” Sam turned to Bucky, looking relieved. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who pictured a whole planet full of giant Norwegian dudes.”

“Come on, Thor, what are we doing here?” Did logic work with the big guy? Bucky didn’t think so…

“What are they doing here?” Heimdall seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Bucky.

“Hey, man, my name is Sam. It’s great to meet you!” He stepped forward with an excited smile and his hand extended in greeting.

Heimdall clasped his arm in camaraderie, but he was still looking at Thor, expectantly. “Midgardians should not be here,” he warned Thor. “It upsets the balance.”

Bucky was not liking the sound of this.

“But they’re so puny!” Thor argued. “Surely one night could do no harm.”  

Heimdall stared at him, unamused. “Need I remind you of what happened the last time--”

“But it’s his BIRTHday.” Thor gave Heimdall the sad eyes.

“Don’t--don’t do that to me, your highness.” He broke eye contact for the first time.

“Honestly, you know, I’d just as soon be--” But no one was listening to Bucky. Sam was checking out the magic sword set in the middle of the room. He’d put his Stark goggles back on.

“Come ooooooooon…” Thor’s smile widened. 

“No--I’m serious. I’m very serious.” But Heimdall seemed to be struggling.

“Never has there been a king of the feast like the mighty Heimdall! Who else will judge the dancing? The wrestling?”

“Wrestling?” Now Sam was looking less enthusiastic.

“The knife throwing?” Thor continued. “The axe juggling?”

“Oh, you know what?” Sam grabbed Bucky. “I just remembered--we’re late to a thing? You know, back on earth?”

But neither of the Asgardians were listening. A slow smile spread over Heimdall’s face. “I do enjoy the juggling.”

“There, you see?” Thor smiled, proud. “Why, perhaps there will even be a Hnefatafl tournament!”

Bucky had no idea what that was, but from the look on Sam’s face, neither of them was eager to find out.

“I am the master of Hnefatafl!” Heimdall pumped his fist.

“Defend your title, old friend!” Thor encouraged.

“Light the feasting hall torches!” Heimdall declared.

“Think we could make it back to Earth while they’re distracted?” Sam asked Bucky.

It seemed Bucky’s fate to be apprehensive when everyone else around him was elated. “No.” Well at least this time, he had Sam on his side.

 

***

 

For days, Tony was too angry to even give Steve the whole story of what had happened. He for one refused to believe that Bucky had broken up with them. And on his birthday of all days. Something had happened, there was no mistaking that, but Steve was more inclined to think it was a misunderstanding--both of his lovers were hot-headed; it wasn’t easy being the rational one in the relationship--than anything else. 

When Tony wouldn’t talk to him, he did his due diligence, looking at security footage with F.R.I.D.A.Y. and even going round to Clint’s to interview the Bed-Stuy crew.

“Wait, he’s gone?” Kate’s surprise seemed genuine.

“So he didn’t talk to either of you about where he might be going?”

Clint was drinking coffee straight out of the carafe. “He’s  _ your _ best friend, isn’t he? Why would he tell us that?”

“You’d better not be hiding anything, Barton!”

Clint had never wanted to see his garbage disposal so up close and personal. “Coffee?” he asked, wondering if he should smash the glass into the side of Steve’s head so that Cap would let him go.

Steve took a step back, letting up on Clint. He probably hadn’t meant to push Steve’s buttons. Anyway, cool and rational, that was his motto.

Kate stood by with her heels in her hand. She’d been ready to beat Captain America with them if things had gone any further. And stillettos hurt. “You need to get your head right,” she snapped.

Clint grunted. “Not this again.”

“Not you, Barton!” Steve turned to face her, surprised. “Did you ever consider maybe he doesn’t want you to find him?”

Steve looked hurt. That had been their story for the last two years. He’d thought they were past it now.

“Look, Cap.” Clint was back to his usual savoir faire, waving his half-empty coffee carafe around. “Women--you know, they’re like this sometimes. You gotta give ‘em their space. They’ll come back to you, you know, when their period is over or whatever.”

The death glare Kate gave him could have melted steel.

“Buck’s not a woman, Clint,” Steve felt the need to point out.

“Woman, lover--whatever. You know what I mean. It’s the same thing.”

“Are you seriously going to take relationship advice from this guy?” Kate deadpanned.

“Nope.” Steve headed for the door. “Would you call me, though, if you hear anything?” he turned back to ask her.

Kate shrugged. “If it’s what he wants.”

Steve didn’t like the sound of that. It made him feel...like the bad guy somehow. “Alright, well. Take care.” Steve let himself out.

“He means well...I think.” Clint shrugged, grimacing when he reached the coffee grounds at the bottom of the carafe.

“That looks like it’s going to turn into a shiner,” Kate pointed out. That Captain America was like a loose cannon without Bucky.  

“I’m still drunk,” Clint confessed.

“Go take a shower.” She picked up a wad of old fast food bags from the counter and threw them at him, disgusted.

“Ooo, sandwich.”   

 

***

 

There were a few too many airborne blades in this great hall for Sam’s comfort. Especially considering there was not a sober person as far as the eye could see. If this was the Asgardian idea of turnt, he was just as happy to huddle at a table in the back with the birthday boy. 

“I see what you’re doing, you know,” he told Bucky, eyes trained on a half-naked dude juggling fire through a figure eight of two armor-clad ladies juggling axes.

Bucky sighed into his horn of mead. “What am I doing, Sam?”

“You’re running from your problems again.”

“Hey, I didn’t wanna come here any more than you did--”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me. You know what I mean.”

“Look, Steve and Tony are better off without me.”

“Ohhhh, here we go.”

“It’s not bullshit.”

“Nobody is safe around me, I’m a monster, I’m hideous, I’m Quasimodo,” Sam pantomimed.

“Come on, Sam.”

But he stood up and started shouting, “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!” down the long hall.

“Very funny.” Bucky ducked his head as people close to them started to look.

“I’m a blight on all I touch! But for my presence, the sun would shine at night! Oh, woe! Woe! Thrice-times woe!” His bad Shakespeare was earning them an audience.

“Come on,” Bucky groaned.

“Encore!” It was Thor. Of course it was, horse-whistling and starting a loud round of applause. “Encore!”

Sam ducked down behind the table, and for a second, Bucky actually thought he was off the hook. That is, until Sam jumped back up onto the table itself, using it as a stage.

“Prepare your best defenses, for it is I! The Winter Soldier!” He extended a wing, using it as a cape, like Dracula, hiding the lower half of his face. He began walking up and down the table, like some half-supervillain, half-supermodel. “Be warned, gentle audience, for all those who look upon my face must love me and despair!” He opened both wings wide, dramatically.

Vikings were gasping. Bucky honestly wished there was a hole in the floor that could swallow him up. But Sam was nowhere near finished.

“No good thing happens in this universe, but I seek to destroy it! I am the demon other demons fear! The top-grossing purveyor of misery! And wherever there is joy--” Sam hissed, hiding behind his wings like Dracula from sunlight.

There was laughter and clapping from the audience. Even the juggling had stopped.

“I am the monster under your bed! The boy your mother warned you about! The terror that flaps in the night! The skeleton in your closet!” Sam stooped down low on the table, growling, “The grape nut in your cheerios!”

Bucky’s forehead hit the table with a soft thunk.

“I deserve no happiness, do you hear me?” Sam was shouting at the rafters, pleading with his hands. “My life can never be more than abject pain and misery, don’t you understand? That’s what I deserve! That’s all I deserve! There can be nothing more in this life for one such as I! My very nature abhors it!” Then Sam started screaming like he was being tortured.

Bucky hadn’t thought he could get more embarrassed. He started chugging his mead, hoping he’d black out. At least that way he wouldn’t have to listen to Sam’s performance anymore.

Sam’s long scream of agony left him laid out on the table, clutching his head, gasping out his last lines. “There can be nothing else for me in this world but isolation and...my inevitable....death.” He stared ahead of him, blankly, as if he saw it coming. And with one final gasp, he acting-died.

The crowd went insane. Bucky wondered if there was any chance he could sneak away in the commotion. But then Sam was jumping up, grabbing his hand and lifting it into the air, taking his bows like it was both of them who’d been making such a scene. He refused to take part in Sam’s curtain call, continuing to drink his mead with the other hand as Sam jerked him around, bowing and smiling.

Thor ran up to them, grabbing them both in a giant bear hug. “Friend Falcon, that was truly amazing! I never knew of your dramatic prowess before!” He slapped them both on the back, sending them sprawling. But Sam just laughed. He was enjoying this. Of course he was.  _ That jerk. _

“Let’s hear it for my puny Midgardian friends!” Thor beamed, raising their hands into the air again to thunderous applause from all those gathered.

Fortunately, Asgardians had short attention spans, and they were back to juggling sharp objects, playing dice games, and imbibing lethal amounts of alcohol before too long. “You’re an asshole,” Bucky grumbled at Sam.

“No,  _ you’re _ a asshole!” Sam snapped. “You punish people who care about you like it’s a damn crime. You should be ashamed of yourself. When are you gonna learn to say ‘thank you’ instead of ‘goodbye’?”

Bucky stared into his mead, gloomy. Feeling guilty all over again. But he wasn’t about to try and explain to Sam why it was better for all of them if he was gone. Not and risk Sam making another scene like that again.

He was surprised when Sam suddenly dragged him into a manly hug. “You don’t get to decide if people care about you or not. They’re entitled to their feelings just like you’re entitled to yours.”

Bucky hung limp in his embrace, unable to return or deny it. He just didn’t have the energy anymore. Also, that grog was actually kicking in. Holy hell. “That’s it, though, Sam,” he confessed. “My feelings.” 

Sam drew back, looking shocked. “You, the scourge of the nine realms, have feelings?”

“Shut up.” Bucky curled his fingers against the wood of the table. “I don’t wanna share Tony with Steve anymore.”

Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Is _ that _ all?”

“Whaddayou mean?”

“Are you serious? You put everyone through all this for that?”

“It’s not like Steve or Tony were gonna be okay with it,” Bucky countered, defensive.

“It’s called relationship counseling, ya idjit.”

“Hey, I’m not the one wearing a bird costume in outer space.”

“Who told you about that?” Bucky grinned. “You know, you are one stubborn old man.”

“Respect your elders, boyo.”

“Oh it’s like that, huh? Now the OG Irish thug comes out.”

“Kiss my Blarney Stone.”  

“You know, it’s technically still your birthday. Don’t tempt me to go R. Kelly on your ass.”

Bucky snorted mead up his nose and couldn’t seem to stop coughing. Thor ran over to help. “More drink!” he shouted, whacking Bucky on the back. “More drink for my puny friend!”

While Bucky struggled to survive Thor's help, Heimdall came over and took a seat at their table, composed and regal as before. “I have secured my place as the reigning Hnefatafl champion.”

“Congratulations, man,” Sam said, reaching over for a fist-bump. “Fist me.”

Bucky’s mead sprayed across the table, and his struggle with Thor started all over again. Sam grinned.


End file.
